More Than Coffee
by ClosetMagenta
Summary: Booth and Brennan test the waters and decide to change the nature of their relationship. Sorry for the title, I'm sure it's been used a thousand times. All content is K appropriate, but I thought the topic was aimed for for a T audience.
1. Changes

_My first half-ways serious fanfic...and one of the only fanfics I've ever finished. It's really disjointed, and pointless, and silly... but it begged to be written. Please R&R._

Temperance Brennan sat in a chair in a hospital room. Her partner sat on the bed, having "some scrapes" patched up by a nurse. He would have refused, but Dr. Brennan's ability to describe his injuries to him in a way that he was so completely at a loss to understand convinced him to allow her to take him to the hospital just so that she would stop the incessant stream of 4- and 5-syllable words flowing freely from her lips.

Unfortunately, she had also ceased the stream of _any_ words. She sat with him, holding his shirt and jacket in her arms, but looked at a wall with her jaw set. When the nurse finished wrapping his left bicep in layers of gauze and giving some advice on caring for his fractured clavicle, she let him go. Dr. Brennan stood and handed him the blotchy, tattered piece of clothe that had been his shirt and he put it on. He then took his coat from her to try and cover the worst of it.

"Hey, Bones, let's get back to the Jeffersonian. I'm sure there's something on me that could be used as DNA evidence from our suspect."

"I could have protected myself." These first words were spoken with a cold, matter-of-fact tone, but Booth could hear a hint of anger seething under them.

Booth smiled his charm smile and tried his best to make her smile as well. "I know you could have, but it was my duty as a gentlem-"

"It was your alpha-male tendencies and your instinctive need to protect what you consider your property-" She nearly spat the last word at him and gestured towards him. He started to reach up to grab her wrist, but had to stop. Neither of his arms was of much good right now.

"Hey, now!" he called, to stop her. "Just because I decide to do something nice for you-"

"Because you think I can't care for myself!"

Her eyes widened, and she turned to face him, full ready for a head-to-head argument. She inhaled, preparing to parry his next verbal blow. Instead, however, he turned away.

"I'm sorry, Bones."

"What?"

They stood for a moment in the parking lot of the hospital, and then he continued to walk towards his car. "I'm sorry. You can care for yourself. You're wrong, though."

"About what?"

He refused to answer, though, and got into his SUV. He started to reach up to the wheel with both hands, and then stopped. His left arm was missing a good deal of flesh from a knife that their suspect had and would be sensitive for several days, and his right clavicle wouldn't let him left his right arm hardly at all. He just sat in the seat for a moment, and her argumentative expression softened.

"I'll drive."

At the Jeffersonian, Angela took Booth's shirt – rather happily – and took it back to look for DNA evidence. Their suspect was not cooperative when Brennan asked to swab for DNA, but they were hoping that that wouldn't matter. Although most of the blood covering Booth's shirt was his own, they were hoping they could find some that wasn't.

Booth, who was left with nothing but a slightly torn and stained jacket and a heavily soiled undershirt, followed Brennan to her office and sat on her couch. She sat at her computer and started to type. "You didn't tell me what I was wrong about."

"What?"

"You said I was wrong."

"Oh."

Booth took a deep breath. "Alpha-male tendencies…you write a lot of my personality and actions off on alpha-male tendencies."

"Well, it's true. It's nothing to be asha-"

"Not everything I do is due to chemicals in my brain, Bones."

"Actually-"

"Listen. I know that sometimes, when I'm doing my job, some things are instinctive because of my training. But back there? That wasn't. When you asked that guy for a DNA sample…what he said to you…" Booth rubbed his forhead. "He pulled the knife and went for you. It wasn't my FBI-Army-Ranger-Alpha-Male instincts that made me jump him."

He paused, and finally looked up at her. There was no reaction in her features, however. She looked more someone listening to a story; she was waiting for the end of his story. He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Those were completely different instincts. We're…you're too important for that, you know?"

She smiled a little bit, leaning back in her chair. "We do have a very successful partnership. It would be a shame if it ended just because of one uncooperative suspect."

Booth stood up suddenly, looking at the ceiling as if searching for the next thing to say. Finally, he stood in front of her desk and looked at her. "Bones, that's not what I mean." He turned, trying to come up with words. "Maybe, if there were no more murders…maybe, if you had it your way, we'd just be coffee. But you know what?" He turned back to face her. "If I had it my way, we'd be a lot more than coffee."

She looked at him, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. He felt like she was laughing at him, but he had gone too far now to stop.

"How would we be, if you had it your way?"

Booth shook his head. "I don't know, Bones. But a lot more than coffee."

She leaned forward on the desk, her mouth scrunched in thought. Finally, she nodded. "You're right. We would be."

He smiled at her. His smile dropped for a moment, though. "I need to ask you something. I only ask you, because I know if you say no, then you can…compartmentalize, or whatever you do, and it won't change anything, except for screwing up my day. But not asking you will, anyway, so I'm going to."

She shook her head in mild confusion, trying to follow his train of thought.

"Screw the line, and our jobs, and all that. Could we be more than coffee…now?"


	2. Kiss

Booth was completely caught off guard by how quickly Brennan had agreed. It wasn't rushed, eager, or expected, but she took only a moment to think about it before nodding.

"How much more than coffee do you want?" she asked.

He laughed, his eyes sparkling. "Honestly? I don't even know." He ignored the pain in his shoulder and leaned over the desk, holding his hands behind his back and staring nose-to-nose at her. "Can we start with maybe dinner?"

"Out? Or I can cook."

"I want to take you out. I know you hate it, but just for once, I want to introduce you to the world as mine. Not my partner, or my friend, but just as mine."

Her face started to look offended, but he couldn't tell whether it was real or mock aggravation. "Are you sure you're not looking for Roxie?"

He laughed. "No, not today. Today I just want Temperance Brennan. Although, if you still have that dress-"

She pulled her face back in a look of what was now clearly mock anger. "What, I'm just a trophy now?"

"Of course not! You could never be 'just' anything. But feel free to add that to your resume."

She leaned back in towards him. "Where are we going?"

He shrugged. "We'll figure it out."

They stood there a few moments longer, looking into each others' eyes before his cell began to ring. He winced as he pulled it out of his pocket and raised it up to his face. Neither arm was particularly useful at the moment. "I have to take this. I'll pick you up at your house tonight." He then decided to take his chances and leaned down again, stealing a quick goodbye kiss from her. She allowed it, and smiled a goodbye to him as he answered his phone and left her office.

She turned back to her computer and continued typing. Her mind was rushing with thoughts, but she mentally placed them in a box to sort through later. It was a good thing, too, because hardly a minute passed before someone knocked on her already-open office door. She turned to see Hodgins with a file in his hand.

"Yes?"

He had a look of "I-know-something-you-don't-know" on his face and rocked on his heels for a moment. He then walked in and opened the file. The suspect you tracked down was a Ryan Ridge; he's been dragged downtown for several charges of drug trafficking, drug use, and-" he turned a page in the file, "-carjacking. Most of them never lead to convictions, but you get an idea of his charact-"

"Hodgins, I don't really care about his 'character'."

"Right. Sorry." He closed the file. "Anyway, he's not the murderer. His DNA didn't match the tissue under the victim's nails or the extra blood on her shirt."

"You don't believe he's involved at all?"

Hodgins shook his head. "Nah. I think he's crack-head, a thief, and an idiot, but not a murderer."

"The fact that he came at me with a knife says otherwise."

Hodgins shrugged. "He may not have wanted to give a DNA sample, but I think that had more to do with his attitude and reaction to whatever Booth probably said to him, and not any guilt on his part."

Dr. Brennan shook her head and sighed. Ryan Ridge was, at this time, the only real suspect they had.

"Hey, speaking of our favorite FBI agent…" Hodgins had regained the same look he had on his face when he had first walked into her office.

"What?"

"Are you going to tell Angela, or do I have to?"

"Tell her what?"

"Dude, your office has _glass walls_. You're lucky that I was the only person who saw your little 'smoocharoo' just then."

"Oh, that." Dr. Brennan shrugged. "I'm sure Angela will find out eventually."

"Seriously, though, what was that about?" Hodgins was excited to be at the front end of gossip instead of the end of the grapevine.

"The kiss?"

"Yes, the kiss!"

"Generally, a kiss is meant as an expression of affection, appreciation, or endearment, although in some cultures-"

"I know what a kiss is, Dr. B. I meant, what does this mean? Are you just, like, 'partners with benefits', or is there something else going on?"

She thought for a moment, then grabbed her jacket to leave. "We're…more than coffee." She smiled and left Jack Hodgins in her office in a cloud of bewilderment.


	3. Roxie

_Sorry, I know EVERYONE uses the whole "Roxie-dress-on-a-date-with-Booth" trick, but...can you see her going out and buying herself a nice dress on her own? Just kidding :) R&R_

While changing for dinner, Dr. Brennan thought about her decision. She had perhaps be hasty to agree, but still didn't think that she had made a bad decision. They had a very successful partnership, and therefore, there was no harm in throwing in some recreational time together as well. She was aware of "the line" that Booth had created when breaking off his relationship with Cam, but she also knew that, in a relationship, there couldn't be much greater risk that their simple partnership had caused. The other typical problem with relationships at work – that is, distraction – was not a problem for her. She could easily compartmentalize the relationship if needed. She had already seen that Booth was able to do this as well, as his relationship with Cam had never created any problems. With everything rationalized, she felt free to enjoy herself.

With all of her stray thoughts neatly cataloged in the back of her brain, she finished retouching her makeup and stood back to look at herself in the mirror. She felt a little silly wearing her black "Roxie" dress, but it was one of the only little black dresses she had, besides her "schoolteacher" dress that she knew Booth didn't approve of. She pulled a short black jacket out of her closet and put it over the dress, covering some of the glowing skin that the dress left unveiled.

She heard a knock at the door and went to open it. Booth was standing casually with a handful of daffodils. She rolled her eyes.

"Gifts are an archaic attempt to buy favor… or, in some customs, to buy a wife. You can't buy me, you know."

Booth looked a little surprised. "What? Who said these were for you?" He pulled them back towards himself. Finally, a smile cracked on Dr. Brennan's face, and she reached forward and took them.

"Thank you." She went back in to retrieve a vase, and he followed her in. He sat on her couch and leaned back. After a moment, he laughed to himself.

"What's funny?" She came out of the kitchen and looked at him. He shook his head, but then rethought his decision.

"You know, normally mentioning your exes on the first date is frowned upon, but I don't suppose that kind of thing bothers you, does it, Bones?" She didn't answer, but her face showed no objection. "In the past, I'm used to going on dates to get to know a girl, spending those first few weeks feeling out each others' personalities. Honestly, the first time I've gone into any of my past girlfriends' apartments or houses, I remember feeling like the little boy visiting some unknown relative. I knew I could be comfortable in their house, but it was just…new, different. You know, you don't know where to sit, or where the bathroom is…"

Booth stopped and laughed again, and then looked up at her.

"We just don't have to go through any of this, do we?"

She smiled. "No, we got that out of the way long ago."

He stood up slowly and said, "Shall we dine, then?"

"Where are we going?"

"I'm thinking about a little Italian place…" he stopped, looking at her.

"What?"

"C'mon, Bones!" He leaned forward and pinched the jacket in his fingers. "What's with the jacket?" I didn't buy you that dress so you could hide it!"

"I'm not hiding the dress, I…"

"Come on, would Roxie wear the jacket?"

She put her hands on her hips. "I thought you didn't want Roxie. I thought you wanted me." She turned, pretending to leave him. He ignored the dull ache in his left arm and reached out to grab the jacket with one hand, gently pulling it off one shoulder.

"Yes, that's true. But could I get just a little bit more of you?"

She smiled, accepting his line of reasoning. She then removed the coat and let him escort her out the door.


	4. Houses

_This is really short. Yeah. Why do all of my chapters start with apologies?_

The dinner started well, like any of the other dinners they had shared. Now, however, they were just looking at each other, into each other's eyes, again, like they had done so many times in the past. He frowned a little bit in thought, and then asked her a question.

"Bones, you… you've never actually told me how you feel about me."

She was caught a little off guard by the question, and he apologized. "I'm sorry. It was sudden. I just…" He sighed. "I'm going to ruin this right of the bat, aren't I? You've dated a lot of guys, and you've said that you...you shared similar interests, that you enjoyed spending time with them…"

"Isn't that the basis for a successful relationship?"

"Well, yeah…but, it's like how a foundation is the basis for a good house. You can pour a solid foundation, but it still matters whether there's a mansion, apartment building, shack, or just a regular house on that foundation…or anything at all. The foundation is just the start."

She struggled to follow his train of thought. "What do you mean?"

"I know we have a good foundation, Bones. But, what does the house look like?"

"I don't know what you mean."

He sighed. "I care about you, Bones. I'm always going to be on your side. As long as I have a choice, I will never leave you. That…that's the house that I see."

"I see."

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry. I kind of threw it all out on the table on our first date, didn't I?" She was about to give some short answer, and he stopped her. "You just think about it. It's what you do." He pulled the cash out for the tip – luckily, they did not experience a repeat of their earlier argument over his insistence on paying – and took her hand as she stood up. With a hand on her back, he gallantly offered, "Dessert, m'lady?"

"Where?"

"Oh, I'm sure there's a Dairy Queen around here somewhere."

She laughed. "Don't you think we're a little…overdressed for that?"

He looked at her. "You've gone to a crime scene dressed as Wonder Woman and now you're worried about being inappropriately dressed? C'mon."


	5. Lines

_Whenever I have a chapter that has giant paragraphs of description, I feel bad. But then, when I have a chapter where it's just LINE SPACE LINE SPACE LINE SPACE LINE I feel bad too. I'm just a guilt-ridden old fool._

Booth walked into the Jeffersonian with a handful of papers. He headed first for the squints to drop off the new information, but was stopped by Cam. "Seeley."

He looked at her, and she motioned him into her office.

"What's up?"

She smiled. "Okay, I don't want you to think I disapprove, I just want to talk about it."

"About what?" He knew exactly about what, but wasn't exactly ready to have this conversation with her.

"The line, Seeley. I just wondered what happened to the line."

Booth sighed and sat down in a chair. He sorted out his thoughts mentally.

"Okay, look, I want you to describe our relationship."

Cam looked a little surprised. "It was great. We had history, a great connection, our personalities just clicked, you know all this, Seeley."

"Did you ever once think about being Camille Booth?"

She thought for a moment. "I guess I never thought about it. I wouldn't have objected to the idea, maybe, in the future-"

"Exactly. We had a great thing, but I never thought about spending the rest of my life with you, either. It just never entered my mind."

"What does this have to do with the line?"

He sighed. His alpha-male personality was taking hold, and he knew it. He didn't want to open up to her, but he had to, in order to make her understand.

"It's been a long time now since I realized that I couldn't see my life without Brennan there with me. Maybe I didn't always think about it romantically, but I've realized for a while that I want to spend the rest of my life with this woman. That's where the line went."

Cam nodded slowly, and then smiled. "It's okay, Seeley. You know that, right?'

He smiled back at her. "Thanks."


	6. Rethinking

_And then I ruined everything. R&R, don't hate. 3_

Booth entered Dr. Brennan's office and shut the door behind him. She was at her computer, working. "Do you have a minute?"

"Yes." She continued to work. He stood beside her desk for a moment, waiting. "I'm listening. I can multitask."

"It…would make me feel better if you didn't."

She stopped, considered his request, and turned to face him.

"It's been a few days since…well, since I gave you some stuff to think about."

"You mean considering our foundation and house."

"Yeah, that. I… just answer yes or no: have you got it all sorted out in that super-computer brain of yours?"

"Yes, I've fully thought abo-"

"I want you to marry me."

The room froze. She simply stared up at him. He looked back. The silence hung in the air. After a very long time, she blinked. "What?"

"You heard me. I don't have a ring, I didn't bring flowers, I'm not on one knee, I haven't talked to your dad about it, but I figured that none of that mattered to you. I don't even want a big wedding; we can get it done without a wedding at all if you want. You don't have to take my name. But…I want you to marry me."

"What is the point of that? Except for legally and financially, I don't see what difference it will make. Do you want to move in together?"

"That's not the point."

"Well, what is it? We are in a monogamous relationship and have a strong commitment to each other. Is jumping over a broomstick or signing a government document going to change that?"

"Yes. Maybe it will." Booth sighed. "Marriage isn't just being committed or monogamous _now_. It's a promise that you always will be. Marriage is my way of saying that I'll never leave you."

She paused. "You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do. But if you don't-"

"I can't do that, Booth. I can't marry you." She looked away from him. When he didn't say anything, she looked back. Surprisingly, he was smiling. His eyes looked sad, but he had an understanding look on his face.

Softly, almost in a whisper, he said, "I know, Bones." He walked back to her couch and sat down. "It's okay. But…I just don't see the point in continuing this relationship if-"

"We've only been together for a little over a week. Don't you think it's too early to judge…"

He shook his head. "Bones, you know that, relationship or not, marriage or not, I'll always be here for you. But…maybe we should just keep things where they were."

"You're right." She nodded. She didn't fully understand, but she knew that he was right. This was a people matter; her knowledge didn't involve people.

He stood up to leave. "I'm glad to have you, Bones. Right where you are, just the two of us being partners, friends."

She smiled. "Me too."


	7. PDA

_You thought I forgot about Angela? Never. I totally came up with the "F-B-eye-candy" joke. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. (my subconscious probably stole it. little thief)_

Booth had left, and Dr. Brennan was attempting to work again. However, her fingers floated above the keys. She was busy sorting through everything that had happened in the past week.

_It's for the best. If you had a non-professional relationship with him, it would only hurt more when he left you._

She shook her head. She remembered Hodgins's words.

_You have a lot of faith in Booth._

She sighed, refusing even now to admit that logic was failing her. Still, she felt like she had done the right thing. Footfalls pattered across the floor outside her office and she turned to see Angela running through the doorway. "Hey!"

"Hi?"

Angela squirmed with excitement. "I heard some juicy gossip."

"Okay…"

Angela was getting aggravated with her friend, but more giddy every second. "So tell me, what's this I hear about you and our favorite piece of F-B-eye-candy?"

"…piece of what?"

"Booth!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." What she was actually thinking was, "I am fairly certain I know what you are talking about but would rather plead ignorance and have you tell me," but she had found through experience that her previous answer generally was more effective.

"I heard there was some PDA in your office the other day…"

"Oh, I know what that is. Personal Digital Assistant." Bones flipped her phone out of her purse as an illustration.

"Public display of affection, dear. You didn't get in near enough trouble in high school, did you?" A blank stare from Dr. Brennan lead to an exasperated sigh from Angela. "Okay, no more beating around the bush. Did you, or did you not share a kiss with Booth in this office?"

After a pause, she simply answered, "What is it you really want to know, Ang?" She was surprised that it had taken Angela this long to get the news, but also knew that Hodgins probably enjoyed dangling it above her head.

"Are you two dating?"

"No."

Angela's face fell. "Are you…sharing in an 'advantageous', platonic relationship?"

Dr. Brennan had to decipher her euphemism before answering, "No."

"What are you then?"

"We're partners, Angela. Partners…and friends."

While this answer did not satisfy Angela, saying it out loud made it more real to Dr. Brennan, and suddenly, she felt comforted. They were friends, and that wasn't going to change.


	8. Faith

_A tiny little epilogue. I know this fic won't satisfy most hardcore BB fans, but I'm not a big AU fan. I'm a big believer in the Prime Directive of Fanfiction: "Leave everything where you found it." I tried to do that... sort of._

Dr. Brennan walked into the diner. There was a newspaper propped up at her usual table. She knew who was behind it, and silently slipped into the seat across from the newspaper. The top of it flopped down, revealing a typical charm smile.

"So, you've forgiven me already?" he asked.

"There's nothing for me to forgive." There was a pause. "I assume you've forgiven me?"

His charm smile continued to beam. "For what?" The waitress came by and dropped Booth's order in front of him. She then put Dr. Brennan's usual order in front of her and then left. She was a bit surprised.

"I didn't tell you that I was-"

"Your coffee's going to get cold." She smiled and picked it up. "You know, Bones, I just have to say… I'm glad this isn't, you know, weird."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Exactly." He smiled at her a little while longer. "Just one more thing."

"What's that?"

"You know, no matter what we…what we _are,"_ he said, motioning to some invisible connection between them, "we'll always be more than coffee."

"Definitely." She surprised herself with how quickly she agreed with his groundless insistence on "always". However, she didn't consider disagreeing with his logic. Not this time. She had more faith in Booth than that.


End file.
